Friends And Enemies

One of the worst mistakes you can make if you have MS, (so, of course, I make it a lot), is to compare your MS to someone else’s. Everybody’s experience is so different that sometimes I wonder if it’s even the same disease. Yes, I used “experience” deliberately, because I don’t just mean symptoms, or ability. I’m including how you’re perceived, treated, talked to, and so on.

I have an aggressive form of progressive multiple sclerosis, so it’s kind of hard to ever refer to myself as “fortunate”. In many ways, though, I suppose I am……….(far too lazy to search a thesaurus for an alternative word apparently)….so…..not unfortunate?

I don’t have an invisible illness, well not anymore and if I did, it wasn’t for long, because my time between a barely noticeable limp and a wheelchair was pretty short. It is very obvious that something is wrong with me, so I don’t get questioned for using a handicapped parking space, etc. Besides the handicapped placard, I have disabled veteran license plates, so usually, the only thing I find myself explaining is that I am not wounded, I just have a disabling disease.

I don’t really deal with questioning looks, or second guesses either; not the way other people with MS do and not from people that matter. That sounded harsh, but you know what I mean, right? Strangers may occasionaly look at me and wonder if I gave up too easily, or am not trying hard enough, but because of my background in Special Forces and the Rangers, family, friends, or aquaintances assume that I’m giving it my all. For the record, they’d be wrong sometimes, but still, they normally give me the benefit of the doubt. Really, the only person who second guesses me, or acts like I’m an inconvenience…….is…..me. I am my own worst enemy.

This past holiday season really drove the point home. At two Thanksgiving gatherings, family stepped in and made it possible for me to enter their homes in my wheelchair and be included. Later, right before Christmas, with the help of several friends, I got to go to a party that I seriously considered not going to because I was afraid of being a burden.

Am I a burden? In the sense that extra things had to be done to accomodate my disability…..yes, I suppose I am, but I’m starting to realize that I’m the only one who is afraid of being a burden, or inconvenience. At this point, anyone who didn’t want to be around me is long gone and I need to stop reflexively apologizing and show genuine gratitude for the people who want my company enough to go the extra mile to have it.

I don’t like being disabled by multiple sclerosis, but I am. I don’t like being treated like I’m disabled either. Maybe it’s just semantics, but my friends and family don’t. They somehow, accomodate my disabilities while treating me like……me. Or, to put it another way, they treat me like a loved one with a disability, but not like a disabled person. Hmm, I suppose I am fortunate after all.

I’m the one who treats me like I’m disabled and for some reason, the hardest one to convince to stop doing so.

I have met the enemy and he is me.